The Truth Behind There Eyes
by TheRestOfUs
Summary: Secrets, pain and friendship. Walking in the lives of Michael, Pete, Henrietta and Firkle. Will they learn some lessons? Will they escape? And are they REALLY whiney pussies? Or do they have real life problems?
1. Chapter 1: Pete's Secret

**A/N: Hey! As South Park continues I've grown fond of the Goth kids so I thought that maybe I should try a fanfic. This is my first try. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own South Park or any of the characters within the show. They belong to Matt Stone and Trey Parker.**

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The Truth Behind His Eyes

His eyes direct the paper to his notebook as he draws as he feels. His eyes so cold, so distant, as if he wasn't really there.

He didn't seem to care either, to the world around him. So still, so content. Although; emotionless, like a statue. He just didn't care about anything but the pages of black ink and the music that played in the background.

I watch him, his every move. Others may call me possessive, I call myself 'concerned'. He flicks his hair as he inhales his cigarette deeply and mutters to himself about how pointless life was.

I sigh, non-conforming gets a little boring at times. I move closer to Red and look over his shoulder at his drawing. Amazing; he truly has a gift. It was of a dove, sitting on a tree branch; tears in its eyes as blackness slowly swallows him.

That was Pete, a lonely dove. He has us, and he knows that but every day he feels more alone. I suppose we all do. On the top of the page he has written 'The freedom will never come'. That's not true, it will; some day.

I notice that we are alone. Henrietta and Firkle had left. I remember them saying something about leaving but I took no interest in it. My concerns are for Red. I love how he is so non-conforming but I hate how he feels. Pfft 'love' such a conformist emotion.

Red has a secret, a secret he won't tell us, not even me. He never keeps secrets, this one is hidden deep.

"That is an amazing drawing Pete".

He looks at me and shrugs. "I guess".

I nod as I reach for another cigarette. "Lighter?"

He reaches into his pocket and hands one to me, I light it. "Thanks".

"Whatever".

I watch him closely as he sets his book down and leans against his bed. We hang at his place now. Henrietta's parents are just getting too much. Thank god he sleeps in his own camper van in the backyard! It's like our own little space away from all of our parents.

His camper door swings open to show his bitch of a mom standing there, looking like the cow that she is.

"Mick is coming over tonight", she says to Pete. "So you better behave".

Pete shrugs as his mom walks out neglecting to shut his door. Bitch.

He sighs as he gets up and closes his door gently.

Mick is his mother's new boyfriend. It sickens me and I'm sure in sickens Pete. I watch him as he leans against his door, resting his head facing upwards towards the ceiling.

"What's the fucking point?" He says.

I lower my eyes to avoid contact with his. They were just too cold, too hurtful to look into.

Minutes pass and I work up the courage to look up. Somewhat relieved I looked up to see that Pete had his head in his hands. I study him, looking for nothing really, just searching for any sign to see why he was acting so strange. No luck.

I hear something though. My hearing becomes stronger as I concentrate. I hear crying. Pete was crying, but why?

I study him further, looking for an answer. I was no good at this, perhaps his body language would tell me. His left sleeve falls down as he shakes from crying. My eyes adjust and I see it, I see the signs. Pete, my Pete, had murdered his arm with cuts. Why would he do such a thing? Why would he hurt himself but more importantly why not tell me?

I slowly get up and walk over to him. He looks up as I stand in front of him looking down at him. He flicks his hair out of his eyes as he watches me kneel.

"What's this?" I ask pointing to his arm.

He blinks another tear away and just stares into my eyes. I can feel it, fear. He's frightened, but why?

"Pete, please".

"I don't know" Is all he could say before he began crying again.

I pull him into a hug as he stains my shoulder with tears. I rub his back and hold him tight, telling him everything will be okay. All he says is 'no'.

He calms down quickly. Not wanting to cry.

"What is wrong Pete?" I ask him as he wipes his tears away. "Please for the love of god tell me".

"There is no god", he says looking down. "And if there was he doesn't love me".

I sigh. "Pete, please?"

"I don't like Mick", he whispers softly, trying to hold back tears.

"None of us do".

"No Michael, I REALLY hate him".

I study him more, he's shaking. Something is not right here.

"Why?" I ask, although I feel it's pointless to do so.

"You would never understand".

I stare at him blankly. He has never said that to me before.

"Try me".

He looks down so I could not read his eyes, his hair covering them as if it were protecting him.

"He rapes me Michael".

My heart stops as he says those words to me. My skin feels numb as my mind tried to process what he had just told me. Rape? RAPE? That bastard fucking touches Pete in THAT fucking way! My fists tighten as my anger reaches its boiling point. I'm the quiet one but get me angry and I'll spew all sorts of words at you.

Pete cries again, only this time; silently.

My anger subsides then turns to numbness again.

"He what?" I ask, although I know the answer.

Pete looks up at me. Fucking hell those eyes! They cut deep when you look right into them. Like razorblades.

"Stay here tonight", he whispers. "Please".

I nod slowly.

He stands up carefully as if he felt like falling, then begins to walk over to his bed. I follow close behind, still shaking. That word; 'rape', that's going to sting my dreams for a while.

We lay down together, silent, just staring at the ceiling.

"Don't tell anyone".

I look at Pete, his eyes still locked to the roof. He turns his head to look at me directly. This time his eyes seem inviting, as if they needed me.

"Please?"

I nod. "Not a friggin soul".

It was at that moment that I saw light. The darkness slipped away for just a few seconds but I saw it. Pete smiled. Not only was it a smile, he was smiling at me.

"You saved me Michael".

I give him a questioning glance.

"I was honestly going to end it tonight".

My gut goes numb again. He was going to fucking kill himself?

"Henrietta asked you if you wanted to go with them when they left but you said no. You saved me".

I smile. I remember now. I didn't want to leave because of concern for Pete.

I take his hand and he accepts it. The lights are off and all that lit the room were the street lights from his window.

"One day", I say, "One day, honestly I will make a liar out of you and set you free".

Pete moves into my arms and lies peacefully on my chest. He lifts up my shirt and rubs a bruise on my stomach that I got from a 'certain event'.

"And one day", he says. "I'll save you too".

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**A/N: There you have it. My first chapter. I would very much appreciate a review if you have the time. Thank you for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2: Michael's secret

**A/N: Hello again. Thank you for continuing to read this story and therefore continuing to be a supporter of this fanfiction. This chapter is in Pete's' POV.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own South Park. I wish I was in the show though. I'd be one of the goth kids for sure.**

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I wake up to silence, dead silence. Not a fucking good thing to hear in my home. Home? This place is no 'home', it's a fucking nightmare!

I look to my clock, three AM. Why the fuck am I awake? This is ridiculous. I close my eyes for a few seconds and then realize, Michael's here! Softly and silently I turn to my side to face him. There he is; sound asleep, away from reality and in his world.

Michael always tells me about his dreams, how they keep him going. He enjoys his sleep, much more than I do but I admit; I'd rather be there then here.

As I watch his chest move up and down as though he was telling me he's alright I remember what I had said to him hours earlier.

'_He rapes me Michael'._

It plays over and over in my mind. Relieved to have finally told someone I smile slightly. Then fear, fear hit me like the many objects that hit that Kenny kid.

"_What if Mick finds out?"_

I trust Michael, I tell Michael everything. He's like a walking and living journal, but I don't trust the walls. These walls bloody frighten me and I'm not fucking scared to admit it. These walls hear me, they hear all. No matter what goes on, someone always finds out.

"No", I whisper. "I'm a fucking idiot!"

I hear movement. Gasping; my head turns quickly to the sounds. Shit! I forget all the time that Michael is a light sleeper.

"What's wrong Pete?"

Fuck. I woke him.

"Nothing, just a bad dream, go back to sleep".

"You called yourself an idiot. You're not", he says rubbing his eyes.

I stare at him. He's good.

"I know, now sleep".

Michael sits up and slides closer to me.

"Pete, what's wrong?"

I lay there, not sure whether to sit up also. Do I reply? Or just turn around and go back to sleep.

"I will tell you somewhere else Michael".

He gives me that face, kind of adorable but very empathetic. His face says it all; the 'what the fuck' expression, only better because it's Michael face.

"You'd only think of me as a crazy person if I told you why I just said that".

He moves closer to me, my heart beat races. Please don't make me say it.

"Pete, what the fuck"?

Told you.

"The walls hear everything here".

He gives me an empathic look and half smiles. Dammit!

"Look, I don't trust this room, or this house, whatever happens here never stays here. The walls hear everything and they tell everyone".

Michael looks at me concerned. He thinks I'm crazy, I just know it!

"I know how you feel. I get that too at my house".

Wow. That surprised me.

"Oh, okay".

"Yeah. It's alright".

He half hugs me then lies back down. I stare at him. I'm not confused though, he's got a point.

His eyes slowly close as he escapes back to his dreams. If only I could take him there always. I move in closer and begin to stroke his hair, he knows I'm doing it but continues on to dream land. His eye is slightly bruised; I frown.

Why didn't I tell him earlier about my rape. He of all the people I know would understand. I remember when Michael told me his secret.

"_Dad hits me all the time. And my Mom"._

He told me when he was six and even then I understood it was wrong. Now, with every new bruise I see on Michael my knuckles turn white.

As I close my eyes I keep replaying those words in my head _"My Dad hits me all the time". _My mind starts to drift as I begin escaping reality too; hoping that I'll meet Michael somewhere in my dreams.

"We're running away Michael, all four of us, I swear it".

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**A/N: Thank you for the read!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry It's been a while. I've been distracted and unmotivated. This chapter isn't in anyones POV. This story will vary chapter to chapter. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own South Park. Do we have to do this every chapter?**

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Michael walked alone from Pete's'. The snow was falling heavy over South Park, covering the grounds like a blanket of white cotton. The cigarette lit in his mouth tasted foul but the addiction kept him filling his lungs with the deadly toxins. He didn't care, he never cared.

South Park was quieter today. All the happy families were all snuggled up together with hot chocolate beside a warm fireplace. Michael didn't have that. The only warm place in his life was with Pete. He couldn't help but wonder what Pete was doing now.

Exhaling the last of his cigarette Michael dropped it against the pavement. As the heat met the snow it sizzled. Michael couldn't help but smile slightly at the sound. It reminded him of bacon. He loved bacon. The rail tracks were just ahead. Staring fiercely at the other side of it Michael paused. No one at school knew, except the other Goth kids. Michael was poor, just as poor as Kenny. In fact, him and Kenny were rather close friends. Michael would never admit it though. Ever since his Mom died when Michael was in middle school, his father stopped working. He lost the house. He got worse at… well at his abuse.

He sat down in the snow, he shivered as he felt the biting ice wet his jeans.

He didn't want to go home, not yet. Staring past the tracks he thought about his life.

'Where was he heading'?

'Is there a future for him'?

He did this often. He heard Kenny's family yelling harsh, belligerent words at each other. He wished he had that; at least they spoke to each other. His father just beats him and that's it. They used to talk before his Mom died. But not much. Now all he does is drink, abuse and neglect. Nothing more.

Slowly Michael stood again. Sighing, he picked up his cane and began his way towards his home. Reaching the train tracks, he kept his eyes looking forward. Maybe if he didn't see his feet pass the tracks he could pretend that it's not real.

He ignored the shouting and cussing that escaped the McCormick family and kept encouraging himself to keep walking straight.

Walking past many emotionless stray cats, Michael reached his home. He stared at it, softly sighing to himself.

'_Why can't I just run away? Why can't I just leave this place? _

He then remembered why and proceeded to the door. Reaching out for the knob he could hear his father angrily muttering to himself inside. Michael knew what was in store for him when he opened this door. He knew it wasn't too late either, but he didn't run. Shaking, completely apprehensive about going inside, he turned the knob. He took one last deep breath, ready to take what he had to take, not running, not disappearing…

The door opened and as his father came rushing over towards him, fists all clenched up, Michael closed his eyes and whispered _'For Pete'_.

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**A/N: Alright, well there you have. Thank you to those still continuing to read this story.**


	4. Read Please :)

**A/N: Hey everyone.**

**I'm sorry that this is NOT a chapter but I'm posting this in all of my unfinished stories. I have also deleted a fair few of my old stories that I wrote at like 12 years old! (LOL) And they just embarrassed me to be honest. Which is why I deleted them. As for this story. I would first like to thank you for your support. I'm very thrilled to have such loyal reviewers and I am so grateful to have people STILL reading them even though some have been written years ago and are still going.**

**A lot has happened in the last few years. And I just haven't had the time to write. A lot of it is to do with the fact that I have felt kinda dumb, I haven't been very confident in my writing and I feel ashamed of my stories. I didn't want to rush any chapters or force myself to write because it wouldn't end up being very good. I want my stories to turn out the way I planned to have them turn out from the beginning. With the help of some friends and my partner I have started to get back into writing. So... in saying that I will be getting back into fanfiction again. The stories I have left that are incomplete will be updated.**

**For this particular story I would like to let you all know that I have edited the story so that it makes more sense since the 'Dawn Of The Posers'. So names have changed, settings, etc. I also deleted the chapter with Ike because I have changed the way this story will go! So if you'd like to go back and reread it, that would probably be recommended. It's not THAT different, but it's different.**

**Thank you again for STILL being a reader and follower of my stories. I love you all and I look forward to giving you the next chapter soon!**


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